


The Dare

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band), X Factor RPF
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Misunderstandings, Truth or Dare, x factor days sigh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:38:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has never really liked truth or dare. But if there's kissing involved...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dare

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt from captinniallwillleadustolove17 on Tumblr:
> 
> Can you do a one shot where all of One Direction's playing truth or dare and Niall dares and Harry and Louis to kiss each other but they're just friends

What with the hectic schedule of rehearsals, interviews and Saturday night performances, all the members of One Direction don’t exactly have much free time on their hands. Sure, they usually have the evenings off thanks to Simon’s insistence that they have to be up bright and early every morning, but by that point they’re normally so tired that they collapse into their beds the moment they can - all except Niall, of course, who seems to constantly have more energy that he knows what to do with.

Overall, though, they haven’t had much time for just relaxing and being normal lads ever since they started the live shows, and although they’ve bonded quickly through singing together to be honest they don’t know that much about each other. Which is probably why Niall takes the opportunity one Wednesday night after they’ve been told they have the next day off due to half of them having caught the nasty cold that’s going around to hold up a bottle of beer that he’s just finished drinking and announces in an only slightly slurred tone of voice that they should ‘play truth or dare to get to know each other!’

The others laugh at him at first for his rather childish idea, but at the end of the day they’ve got nothing better to do and, as Liam (the only sober one of the lot) voices, it would be nice for them to know more about each other than the rather patchy biographies they formed at the bungalow after they were first put together as a band. So they arrange themselves in a circle on the floor of Harry and Louis’ shared bedroom in between the two single beds, and position the empty bottle in the middle while Zayn mutters about ‘not wanting to suck anyone off this evening, thank you very much’ and Louis tries to prise the mobile phone out of Harry’s hand.

“As the instigator of this game,” Niall begins in a fake English accent, “I believe that I should have the first spin!”

“Yeah, yeah, just get on with it,” grins Louis jokingly, prompting Niall to reach forwards and push the bottle around on the carpet in front of them until it stops of its own accord, pointing directly at Zayn.

“Oh God,” he sighs, sounding more curious than exasperated as he leans forwards a little in his seat and wraps a friendly arm around Liam who’s sat next to him and looking only slightly uncomfortable at being not at all drunk a opposed to his bandmates. “So, what have you got lined up for me then?”

“Well you’ve got to choose truth or dare first!” laughs Niall, clearly keen to remind them all of the rules of a game that they haven’t played since they were all about 14.

Glancing around the circle at his newest friends as though weighing up his options, Zayn shrugs in an uncharacteristically happy-go-lucky fashion before choosing.

“Truth I suppose, since we’re meant to be ‘getting to know each other’, or whatever.”

That’s enough to make the other members of the band crowd together opposite him, whispering in a way that makes Zayn a little anxious that he might end up revealing a little more about himself than he quite planned beforehand.

Eventually Niall pulls away from the group discussion with a delighted grin on his face that only serves to increase Zayn’s slight anxiety.

“Right, we’ve got a question for you, Zayny!"

Raising an eyebrow, Zayn just sits back and waits. Niall doesn’t seem put out by his lack of enthusiasm, however, and continues to grin broadly as he asks away. “Right, which one of us would you shag if you had the chance?”

Zayn’s eyebrows go even higher up his forehead and he splutters a bit without saying a thing.

“Go on!” prompts Louis with a cheeky smile to rival Niall’s. “If you had to, which of us would you do?”

At that Zayn’s cheeks go the colour of a fire engine and he ducks his head down in embarrassment that only serves to make his friends laugh harder.

“Who says I’d want to shag any of you, anyway?” he manages to get out eventually, but it’s clear he’s bluffing. “You’re not that good looking, you know!”

However the other boys aren’t about to take that as the revealing answer they want, and so continue to pester him until he sighs and cries out ‘fine!’ to be heard over the top of them. “Alright! I’d… I’d do Liam. Probably. Just because.”

Then he blushes again and strangely Liam does too, so the other boys just smirk and continue with the game with knowing smiles on their faces.

***

And so the game continues, with the dares gradually becoming more ridiculous and the truths more revealing until after half an hour or so they spin the bottle and it lands exactly halfway in between Harry and Louis. Sighing, Liam leans forward to spin it again before Niall stops him, shaking his head and grinning.

“Nah,” he slurs, really rather drunk by this point but happy as always. “I’ve got a better idea!”

None of them are quite sure what he means by that, but, hey, they’ve done enough by now that by this point Harry at least is willing to do pretty much anything that is suggested, so he nods and smiles.

“OK, what?” asks Louis, looking just as relaxed as Harry feels, but neither of them are expecting what their friend says next.

“Well, since it landed between you, I think we should dare you both to kiss!”

For a moment there’s just shocked silence in the room, before Louis starts laughing raucously.

“You’re kidding, right?” he says, and Harry relaxes because of course this must be just a joke, another stupid prank that all his new friends seem to specialise in. However Niall shakes his head with his usual cheeky smile and they both realise a bit too late that he’s being totally serious - or at least as close to it as it’s possible for him to get.

Harry’s eyes widen at this realisation, and he’s trying to think of something to do or say to make this as least slightly less awkward when Louis thankfully speaks up to break the tension in the atmosphere.

“Well, I guess that would be, um, alright… I mean a long as Hazza doesn’t mind?”

The nickname falls easily off his tongue, encouraging Harry to lean forwards so that their faces are that bit closer together, because the last thing he wants to do is back out on a dare.

“I’m cool with it,” he shrugs, and he really doesn’t know why his heart is suddenly thumping at a hundred miles an hour because it’s not like this means anything, right? So, yeah, he’s sort of been dreaming about doing this for weeks now, but in most of his fantasies they usually end up kissing of their own accord rather than being forced to do so by their bandmates, which isn’t exactly the most romantic of atmospheres. And from his friend’s expression he can tell that to him this is just another dare, nothing more than friends jokingly making out for a laugh. Which is perfectly fine, of course.

He definitely doesn’t mind when Louis shuffles closer to him on the carpet and lets Harry experimentally press their lips together just like he’s wanted to for what feels like ages because regardless of the emotions behind it he’s still kissing his crush and if that isn’t an achievement of sorts then he doesn’t know what is.

The kiss is good too - no, fucking amazing, actually because Harry can feel Louis' warm, slightly wet lips against his and they taste like beer and pizza and something sweet and he kind of never wants to stop kissing him, ever. His confidence grows a little from the way that Louis is moving his mouth against his and he bites down gently on the other boy's bottom lip, eliciting a moan that he definitely wasn’t expecting from his mouth.

But then he needs air quite badly and is forced to pull away as much as he wants to carry on going, backing away quickly so that he can regain his oxygen levels and sanity. The other boys are staring at him like they’re not quite sure what just happened, except for Louis who has averted his gaze so that he’s now staring at the bottle on the floor like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

“Wow,” Niall says after a moment, and Zayn, who is leaning against Liam's shoulder and looks half asleep, nod along mutely. Liam looks like he might have forgotten how to speak entirely.

Awkward silence prevails for another minute, with all of them struggling to know what to say next, before eventually Liam speaks up.

“I, um, I think I’m gonna go get an early night if that’s OK with you guys” he stutters, stumbling over his words and his feet in his haste to stand up and leave the room. “See you tomorrow!”

“Yeah me too,” mutters Zayn and Niall is quick to follow them out of the room, leaving Louis and Harry sat awkwardly next to each other in silence once more.

Harry isn’t sure what he wants to happen next - a continuation of the mind-blowing kiss would be nice of course, but totally unrealistic, so perhaps an explanation of what the hell just happened instead. What he doesn’t expect is for hLouis to get onto his knees and start clearing up the beer bottles and pizza boxes strewn over the floor like nothing out of the ordinary just happened at all.

Harry feels like he should say something about his unusual behaviour, but the words are stuck in his mouth, clogging up his throat until he can’t breathe. When the Louis sits back again, he tries to find the words once more, his eyes fixing on those blue, blue orbs in front of him in the hope of finding some sort of insight into what exactly is going on inside the mind of Louis Tomlinson. Just as he thinks he might have found a spark of something worth clinging onto, Louis frowns at him and stands up so abruptly that Harry almost falls backwards as he makes his way hastily to the bathroom, muttering something about needing to piss.

The moment the door is shut behind him, Harry blinks heavily a few times to try to sort out his spinning head, but to no avail. Without much recollection of having moved, he finds himself on his bed staring up at the ceiling and wondering what they’re meant to do now. Obviously Louis is trying not to acknowledge the incident, making it clear that it wasn’t exactly a highlight of his relatively short life, but the sad truth is that Harry… he thinks it just might be for him.

At any rate, he can’t stop thinking about those lips against his own and the taste of the older boy’s breath and how blue his eyes were up close, and that means he is well and truly fucked. With an anguished sigh, he pulls a pillow over his face and screams into it, hoping that Louis won’t hear and yet almost hoping that he will.

***

When Louis wakes up much later than usual the next morning, he has a relatively mild hangover and a ball of gnawing guilt and anxiety in his stomach. The cause behind the first affliction is pretty obvious what with the fact he was drinking with Niall last night, but the basis of the latter is harder to pin down. After all, it’s a Wednesday and they have the day off and Simon already told them that he’s pleased with their performance this week so what is there to – oh.

Just then Louis remembers what else happened last night, and with a sudden jolt of clarity he can see himself kissing Harry. Harry. As in Harry fucking Styles, his good friend and bandmate who he not only has to see every day at rehearsals but also shares a room with. A whole bunch of curse words fill his mind before he tries to push them aside and figure out why exactly this is freaking him out as much as it is. He’s known he has feeling for the younger man ever since he first met him in the bathroom at boot camp, but that’s just the problem! Because no matter how he looks at it, being attracted to the other teenager is a Very Bad Idea.

It’s not even the gay thing that’s an issue – Louis told the band all about his ex, Stan, back at the bungalow, and Harry has always made it clear that he’s perfectly comfortable with liking both guys and girls – but rather the kiss itself. There’s no denying that it was the best kiss he’s had in ages, or possibly ever, what with the way Harry had been so adorably nervous beforehand and then had gone on to press their lips together with fervour, nibbling at his lower lip in a way that made his friend really want to…

He really needs to stop thinking about this if he doesn’t want to get embarrassingly hard from the combination of lustful memories and early morning tendencies to be more sensitive – nor to mention the fact that he hasn’t had sex in several months since he finally snapped and told Hannah that as lovely as she was he definitely wasn’t interested in anything without a cock. Anyway, it was a pretty damn good kiss, and Louis would have been more than willing to continue with it once the boys had made their hasty exit. Either that or laugh it off as drunken fooling around, which might have stung a little but would at least have been _something_.

As it happened, though, Harry hadn’t done anything except look at him in a way that made the Louis so uncomfortable that he had to excuse himself from the room before he did something stupid like kissing him again. And then Harry hadn’t done a goddamned thing! All evening Louis had been waiting for his bandmate to say something, even if it was just ‘let’s never talk about this again’ because he can understand that, understand if they just decided to draw a line under the evening and move on. But nothing had been said or done, which to Louis at least could only mean one thing: Harry wasn’t interested.

Of course, it had been stupid to think that a gorgeous boy like him would ever have a thing for his short, skinny friend with a bad haircut and even worse jokes, but before last night there has at least been some hope, a sort of vague notion in the back of Louiss head that if they ever ended up making out with each other they’d probably both like it. Evidently, though, this isn’t the case. Harry’s withdrawn behaviour was clearly his way of letting his friend know he wasn’t interested without breaking his heart or whatever, and Louis was stupid to think there could ever be more to them than that.

Just as he’s reached this rather depressing conclusion, he hears Harry begin stirring into consciousness in his own bed and eventually a sleepy ‘ _morning, mate_ ’ makes its way across the room. Even that stings a little because they’re usually so comfortable around each other that Harry would call him ‘babe’ or ‘sweet cheeks’ when he first greeted him, even if it was for a joke.

“Morning,” mumbles Louis, turning his head into the pillows so he doesn’t have to see the other boy, meaning his words are muffled slightly.

Nothing else is said after that, and Louis finds himself listening to the noises Harry makes as he drags himself out of bed, goes to grab a towel and makes his way towards the bathroom. He can almost picture his friend doing it all, which is probably just this side of creepy if he thinks about it, and so when the unmistakable sound of rushing water from the shower fills the room he knows he’s going to be in trouble unless he stops this train of thought very quickly. Unfortunately his brain has never been very good at doing what he tells it to, and he finds himself picturing Harry in the shower, his damp curls plastered to his head and his hands wandering over his vast expanses of pale skin…

Louis' pyjama pants are starting to feel very tight as he realises with startled horror that he is actually getting hard over his own bandmate. Then he thinks ‘fuck it’ because his mind’s eye has suddenly decided to go down and frankly if anything is going to turn him on then the mental image of Harry’s cock is bound to do so.

He’s seen the younger lad naked before (no one in the X Factor house hasn’t by this point) and although he made sure to avert his eyes after just a second too long, he still got enough of an eyeful to know that his fantasies are accurate at least. When his hand finds its way into his pants, it’s no surprise to him when he starts jacking himself off to the thought of Harry showering – he’s only human, after all, and this is surely more than any gay man could possibly stand! Bucking up into his fist, he curls his fingers around his length as images of Harry doing the same under the steady stream of the shower fill his head.

It’s all too much and he finds himself finishing embarrassingly early, cumming into his hand with a strangled cry that he thankfully has the forethought to muffle into his cushions before collapsing back against the mattress with a mixture of delight and horror on his face. He knows he should feel wrong and dirty and disgusting from having just masturbated over his friend, but instead he feels strangely giddy. This is it, this is the undeniable truth that should terrify him but for some reason doesn’t: he wants Harry.

And not just to get into his pants, although that too because frankly who wouldn’t, but he also wants to hold him close to him and fall asleep with his warm breath on his neck and wake him up every morning by kissing him softly. And yes, he’s already reached the conclusion that his feelings aren’t returned, but God be damned if he isn’t going to say something and sort this situation out once and for all. Well, after Harry has got out of the shower, anyway.

Thankfully at that moment the water is turned off in the bathroom and Louis tries not to think about Harry towelling himself dry as he gives him a moment to come back into the shared room before running out of patience and getting up to make his way over to the door. Deciding that it will be nothing new if Harry isn’t decent, he pushes open the door that as usual isn’t locked to see the younger boy stood by the sink with a towel wrapped round his waist, brushing his teeth.

When he spots Louis in the mirror he shoots him a small smile that seems so nervous that the older boy’s confidence drops again until he reminds himself what he’s here to do.

“I’ll let you finish up,” he says nonchalantly, thinking ‘I just wanked over you’.

Harry nods, spits and rinses his mouth before putting his toothbrush back in the holder and turning Louis with a raised eyebrow. Louis thinks ‘I really want to kiss you again’.

“Did you want something?” he asks in a tone of voice that is less abrasive than simply withdrawn, and Louis gulps and takes a deep breath because this is it, this is now or never, this is… probably a good time to start talking before Harry decides that he really is mad.

“Er, yeah, there is actually,” he starts, deciding to just wing it and deal with the consequences later.

“Look, I’m sorry if last night has made things awkward between us because you’re a really good mate and I don’t want anything to change that. I - I’d be willing, I mean, if you wanted to forget about it then I guess that would be fine, is all I’m saying.”

Harry looks like he’s about to say something at that, but Louis is quick to continue with the second part of his mini-speech, even though it’s this bit that’s giving him heart palpitations just thinking about it.

“But the thing is, I, um, liked our kiss. A lot.” Harry doesn’t say or do anything, and Louis wonders if he heard him properly. “I mean, I know you’re probably not interested at all and I hope you don’t hate me for this or something, but the thing is I really like you and -”

He never gets to finish his sentence, because suddenly a long, pale finger is being pressed against his lips that he realises after a moment belongs to Harry. The other boy is staring at him in awe, which makes him feel a little uncomfortable but also strangely pleased, like he wants to bask in the glow of his gaze forever. Finally, though, Harry speaks, his voice slow and strangely under confident.

“Two things,” he says, moving his face almost imperceptibly closer to his Louis' in the process. It shouldn't be a noticeable movement, but when it comes to Harry Louis notices _everything_. “Firstly, of course I don’t hate you! How could I ever hate you?”

He sounds so genuine that Louis feels his cheeks heat a little bit and can’t stop a small smile from turning up the corners of his mouth. If Harry notices then he doesn’t say anything about it and simply continues.

“And second… You like me?” His tone is incredulous but not in a negative way - it sound more like someone who’s just heard the news they’ve been waiting for, although that can’t be the case, right?

Louis tries to speak before remembering the finger and instead just nods sheepishly, unsure what the hell is supposed to come next in an exchange like this. A punch, maybe? Or just a sigh and an apology and a broken heart? What he definitely doesn’t expect is for Harry to run his free hand through his shock of damp curls and smile at him in a similarly bashful manner. “Ok,” he begins, biting his lips nervously. “Well, what if I said I like you too?”

Louis blinks, certain he must be dreaming.

“Wha?” he manages to get out past the finger resting against his lips, but he doesn’t have time to say anything else because suddenly it's been replaced with Harry’s lips and _fuck_ he’s kissing him and it’s so much better than he remembered and he never wants this to end…

When Harry pulls away he’s blushing like a fool, and Louis just wants to reach out and stroke his cheeks and tell him it’s going to be OK. Instead, though, he smiles to calm him down and leans forwards so that their foreheads are pressed together in a way that he hopes is as much of a comfort to the younger man as it is to him.

“You like me too?” he asks, deadly serious because if this is some sort of a twisted joke then he thinks he might cry or do something equally embarrassing. Harry just gulps and nods, clearly as uncertain about this all as Louis is too, and that’s enough to make the largest grin of his life (well, second - nothing can beat getting put in One Direction in the first place) break across his face. Harry looks startled by that but starts smiling inexplicably too, just seeming so happy that Louis hasn’t started yelling at him or something.

“Well then,” continues Louis with a cheeky grin that he can’t believe he’s actually got the confidence to pull off at a time like this. “I guess we’d better do something about that.”

***

Five minutes later, Louis has Harry pinned against the bathroom wall, his hand wrapped in his curly hair and his tongue in his mouth when suddenly a thought comes to him that makes him laugh.

“What?” asks Harry good naturedly, smiling at his very own adorable idiot who grins straight back.

“I was just thinking that we really need to thank Niall,” he explains, but Harry just frowns.

“Why?” he asks, clearly confused, which makes Louis chuckle once more.

“Because of that game of truth and dare, of course - if it wasn’t for that then I wouldn’t be able to do this now!”

With that he leans forwards and licks along Harry’s bottom lip, making them both smile with pure, unadulterated bliss.

“Yeah,” he mutters against Louis’ lips in a way that he hopes he will have the opportunity to repeat over and over again, in a hundred different settings, each time more perfect than the last. “I guess we really do owe him one…” And with that they just keep kissing like they never want to stop.

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! Happy endings! Also, I can totally imagine this happening back in X Factor days, even if they didn't actually properly get together just yet, but I reckon they were pretty much together from the start :) Perfect bbs are perfect


End file.
